


Junkless Rat

by Bee_Knee



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Doctor Drama, Explosions, First Exam, Gen, Trans Character, Trans Jamison, Trans Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 14:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14380296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bee_Knee/pseuds/Bee_Knee
Summary: Junkrat only cared for chaos and his body reflected that. The lack of two limbs, radiation poisoning, protruding ribs, smiling rotted teeth, bloody coughs, shrapnel cuts, hairless burns, and deep scarring never bothered Junkrat. To him his body was expendable, a devoted explosion-creation machine and he literally lived for the rush, the pop, and brief life of his fiery little bomb children.When Mercy calls Junkrat in for his first medical examination, he finds out that he never cared about what was between his legs either.





	Junkless Rat

A flash of golden light flooded the room. The reflective metal walls made the light all the more blinding. In the center was Junkrat, leaned back comfortably in a chair and he was sporting industrial-grade sunglasses.

He was a very stylish bloke if he said so himself.

The light eventually dispersed and the room darkened. Junkrat took that as his que to sit up. He would have stood up, but his prosthetics had been removed for the examination and he was stuck sitting, unless he had assistance.

Junkrat also had little patience.

"Oi Blondie!" He shouted, perhaps a bit loudly, "The scan thing is over, yah?"

He glanced at the ceiling and to his sides. The lights gave no indication of returning and so he grew antsy.

He wasn't used to staying in one spot for so long.

His remaining arm and leg, both on the left side of his body, propelled him forward.

Smack!

Junkrat fell face first into the floor, a cold metallic surface.

"Hah, look at that!"

His reflection was grinning back at him, gums bloody and a tooth had been knocked loose.

He slipped said tooth into a pocket. He'd just pop it in later, with a gold filling maybe.

The reflection of the doctor was also seen, an Angela Ziegler, who began walking briskly when she noticed he fell.

A hand fell on his shoulder and Junkrat tensed.

He hated being touched.

"Jamison, are you alright?"

Junkrat, or Jamison in this case cocked his head and saw her in the corner of his eye.

He winked.

"Eyh love, never been better."

Angela gave a kind smile.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Before Junkrat could make sense of the response she knelt down and helped Junkrat to his feet.

"Soooo…Doctah, my health is in the green, right?"

She shook her head vigorously, looking even a bit angry.

"No, it's red," She paused, "Blood red."

That got Junkrat's attention. She was speaking his language.

"What—"

He was placed on an examination counter and Angela handed him his prosthetics. Her gaze lingered on the stumps for a moment and Junkrat frowned.

"Yah got a problem with me stumps?" He snapped, though Angela's expression was professionally stoic.

"Not at all." She turned around to an elevated desk and rummaged around for something.

When she found it, she handed it out to Junkrat, who snatched it up like a piece of candy.

A pamphlet.

Junkrat's literacy wasn't the best but he got the gist.

It was a pamphlet for more modern prosthetics and Junkrat crumpled it up with his good hand, tossing it to the ground—offended.

"Sheila, are you perhaps insinuating-," He paused to wave his mechanical hand and peg leg around for emphasis, "—that these beauties right here aren't good enough?" His tone held a bite as he leaned forward, eyes dangerously glinting.

"I made em myself—my best craftsmanship too!" His chest puffed out in pride, though it also drew attention to his protruding ribs and malnourished bulging belly, and Angela couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for the man.

Junkrat was far from the most unhinged patient Angela had, so it was easy to remain impassive under his threatening gaze.

"No, Overwatch covers all medical costs. It is simply my duty to inform you of all the available options…for treatment."

"Treat? Ment? Hrm, what, I get a lollipop then?"

Angela patiently smiled, if only to humor the junker.

"That can be arranged."

She turned to her desk and swiped a stack of electronic papers. She sat in a swivel chair and approached Junkrat. His threatening demeaner dispersed and he leaned away, a bit put off.

Angela knew then that her face had grown very grim. On her lap were the reports of Junkrat's scans and she had no idea where to start with explaining the discovered diagnoses.

Her hands clasped together and moved forward. She opened her mouth to speak but thought better of it.

Angela went back to her desk and grabbed something. She held it out to Junkrat, who perked up.

"Oi, a handful of lollies! You really are an angel like the others say!"

It was interesting to see how Junkrat flipped from a murderous lunatic to an excited child within seconds.

The sudden mood change was marked down for a separate file.

"Now, Mister Fawkes—as mentioned before, your health is not in the green as you put it."

The electronic papers were shuffled. Each sheet was stiff and flickered with images that Junkrat leaned forward to see.

"Firstly, it appears your body has suffered extreme radiation exposure and thus numerous other conditions manifested as a result."

"Yeah shelia, get to the point." He rolled his eyes and waved his hand, urging her to hurry. "I've been soaking up the good ol' rads me whole life."

Angela nodded, her expression still just as grim.

"Very well then. Allow me to list all that is wrong. Firstly, poor hygiene, a big one. You have advanced periodontal disease and I will refer you to a dental clinic immediately. Your lungs also show symptoms of pneumonia—no doubt from the soot and carcinogenic dust from explosives…"

Junkrat didn't seem to be listening. Several lollipops had been shoved into his mouth at once and he seemed to be struggling to keep track of them all.

*Ahem

Angela cleared her throat. Junkrat blinked, now chewing the lollies in an apparent state of sugar euphoria.

The doctor pinched her brow.

Perhaps giving him candy hadn't been the best idea, with his advanced periodontal disease and all.

Still, it had calmed him.

Angela snapped her fingers in front of his face and eventually his eyes were drawn to the sound.

"…Whaurg…shurgh?" He tried to speak, but obviously failed as he focused on not choking on the candy. His eyes bugged out as sticky spit dribbled from his mouth, akin to a rabid beast.

Amused, he snorted and dramatically shrugged. Angela smiled, if only again to humor him.

"Additionally, your skeletal, nervous, and muscle scans all found several past injuries, with indication of poor healing in many areas." She wrote in a few entries. "Of course, I will present the surgical options once the database had time to run a complete genetic blast test—should take a day or two at best."

The papers suddenly felt heavy as the doctor pulled out a thick questionnaire.

A psychological evaluation.

Junkrat had completed it earlier in the examination, but she hadn't time to analyze the results just yet. From just the covering she could see a mad scribbling of swirls and lines. Only the fact that Jamison had signed his name on the paper identified said scribbles as his handwriting.

She sighed.

The questionnaire was flipped through. On a question that asked for biological sex, male or female, Junkrat had scribbled both options out—leaving instead a huge question mark.

Angela steeled herself. No doubt this would be a doozy.

"So Mister Fawkes as for…"  
Junkrat held up a finger as he chewed the last few lollipops. Each broke with an audible crush and Angela cringed as she imagined the state of his rotted teeth.

"As for—"

"Shhhhh."

Junkrat held up the finger higher, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. His chewing grew more frantic as he swallowed the last of the candy and settled for eating the paper sticks.

It was a curious enough novelty that the doctor waited for Junkrat to finish.

"Alright…*cough…questions are good to go!" Junkrat gave a thumbs up and gave a rainbow colored smile.

"Jamison, let's see. According to the questionnaire you didn't designate your biological sex. Would you care to comment on that?"

Angela expected him to be offended and already had more candy on hand in the event of an explosion—but Junkrat remained silent.

It was eerie as he knitted his brows together in concentration. He might have looked deep, intelligent even, though his fidgeting from side to side gave a different impression.

"I…dunno?"

"Oh, why is that?"

Junkrat rubbed his bare chest underneath his bomb-straps and then he looked at Angela with a brow raised, as if it was obvious.

"Well…I'm pretty sure I'm a…dickless bloke!" Junkrat stood up, ecstatic, as if the answer just came to him. He celebrated doing jazz hands as if to mimic an explosion.

Angela scribbled down the response.

"After all doctah, I've got no big tits." He plucked one of his nipples for emphasis. "I've just got little fired eggs here on me chest!"

Angela blinked. The blinking continued when the imagery creeped into her head.

A finger was jabbed near her breasts and she calmly moved it away. He pulled at his hair as an apparent epiphany tumbled about.

"I don't have a lovely set of cans like you do doctah!" A scary, distressed look was on Junkrat and he patted his chest. He seemed disappointed by the revelation.

"Hrm…" Angela prided herself on maintaining a professional air, "Mister Fawkes, can you please clarify what you mean by a "dickless bloke?"

Junkrat snickered, "Eh yah, funny idea that is."

He tugged at his pants and pulled the clothing down.

Wow.

Angela immediately stood up in case the patient decided to do anything crass.

"Okay, that's not okay! Mister Fawkes, please pull your pants back up."

A chuckle was the only reply as he ripped off the tattered excuse he had for an underwear.

Woooow.

"So here's my problem doc, I don't know if I ever had a dick…or if I never even had one in the first place!" He scratched his head frantically, his eyes rolled about as he desperately tried to remember…something.

The papers were put to the side. Angela twiddled her thumbs, considering her options.

"I mean…knowing myself, I probably blew it off! Ha, imagine that-blowing up me willy of all things!"

For Junkrat to have blown off his own dick was entirely plausible to the doctor. He had memory problems and even someone sane would tend to want to forget such a traumatic event.

She had to confirm things for his records, though—she was a professional after all.

Sighing, the doctor put on a pair of disposable gloves, accepting of her fate.

It was hardly the worst thing she ever had to do anyway.

"Alright, Jamie. Lay down on the examination counter. I will…check for you."

A cheeky grin splintered onto his face and he did as told.

It was a small mercy, that Angela only had to touch his thighs before she got her answer.

No sign of scarring. No testicles. No dick.

"Alright."

Quickly, Angela disposed of the gloves and lathered her hands in sanitizer.

She sat down at her desk, questions humming in her mind. She looked up Junkrat's scans, already knowing what the results would read.

"Oi, Doctah! Don't leave me hanging! Sooo did I blow off my dick or not?"

He angrily tugged his pants back on. He stomped forward and slammed fists onto the table, leaving dirty marks, to Angela's displeasure.

"You never had one."

Junkrat flinched, despite the fact he'd considered the possibility already.

He backed away from the desk, his sickly skin had grown considerably paler.

"W-what does that mean then?" He looked strangely innocent as he stood still and scratched at his arms.

What did it mean?

Angela clicked a switch on her desk.

Bwoop.

A holographic screen popped up in front of Junkrat. It displayed a variety of images and values he couldn't understand, though he tried as curiosity was eating him up on the inside.

"Right up there." Angela pointed up to a corner of the screen. "See that symbol there?"

Junkrat's breath hitched. He knew what that symbol meant.

"It means your biological sex is female."

Junkrat only stared with a gob-smacked expression—looking like a water starved fish.

"An explanation may lie in having pre-pubescent radiation poisoning, but it's too soon to confirm anything yet."

Junkrat made a pained noise, the doctor smartly moved away.

Anticipating an explosion, Angela retired to her desk, typing in various entries while info was fresh in her mind. Still, she watched Junkrat in the corner of her eye.

He looked positively livid and he shook, as if he was a bomb himself.

Then he stopped.

Slowly, it started with a reluctant giggle and grew into a hearty chuckle.

"Aahahahahahahaa!"

Junkrat was laughing. He fell to the floor and bit his own arm as if to muffle the laughs. His malnourished belly heaved up and down like a bubble—which almost looked painful. Eventually he calmed, as much a manic individual could. His eyes still burned wildly.

"Forget me being a dickless bloke then!"

The laughs started again.

"It turns out I've just been a canless sheila this whole time!"

The laughing then died out again.

His eyes were wet as if he'd been crying and he curled up on himself, burying his head in his knees.

Obviously, it wasn't the answer he had been expecting.

The doctor continued filling in entries, but Junkrat was silent as he lay curled up on the floor.

He didn't move after a long while either. Angela stood up and reluctantly walked over.

She wouldn't be much of a doctor is she didn't check up on a patient in duress, after all.

Junkrat felt a hand on his shoulder. He twitched.

He didn't like to be touched.

"Jamie, would you prefer to lay down on one of the beds?"

He didn't answer and for a moment, Angela feared the laughing had actually hurt him…until…of course…

He began laughing again.

"Oh my god, the queen can kiss my clacker!"

Junkrat spun around and snatched Angela by her front coat, caressing her face with grubby fingers. A manic grin—with corn-like teeth, was close to her face as Junkrat's bright eyes bore into her.

Just as she was about to subdue Junkrat into a choke-hold and to perhaps charge him for assault, he let go.

"Doc, listen to this!"  
She didn't have much choice as his head bobbed near her ear.

"I'm a rat with no junk!"

A hefty amount of drool and snot leaked out of him.

"Do you know what that means?"

Angela figured she'd humor him one last time.

"No."

He bounced away.

"I'm no longer Junkrat!" He puffed out his chest and struck a heroic pose. "I'm the Junklessrat!"

Angela could only blink at the simple stupidity of that statement.

"I'm going to spread the word to the team—heck, to everyone!"

The doctor had no time to reply, before Junkrat sped out of the room.

Looks like he took the news well.

Angela went back to her desk and began filling in entries again. She didn't look forward to all the paperwork Junkrat had given her, plus whatever more he might help generate.

Explosions rocked the foundations of the base that day.

**Author's Note:**

> Story is currently a One-Shot but feel free to make suggestions for how certain characters will react to "Junklessrat" and a continuation may be considered.


End file.
